


Not Yet Love

by mostlyapples



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Awkward Romance, Con Artists, F/M, First Meetings, Secret Santa, Sexy Times, at the police department, flirting through stealing each other's stuff, just tater tots, tater tots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlyapples/pseuds/mostlyapples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spy/Scout's Mom: written for a prompt, an AU in which Scout and Scout's Mom are con artists in Boston, and one day Scout's Mom falls for a mysterious man... (Basically an excuse to include tater tots.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A beginning

At least her baby got away, but she had to allow herself to be taken in for questioning when the coppers came sniffing around. Wouldn’t do to put them both in the spotlight, though she did not fancy the idea of turning her back on her youngest son. Fortunately, he was quick to catch on to the family business, and had been even quicker to flee the scene on her orders after she realized they were about to get caught.  He would be fine.  And she would be, too, once she got out of this dingy holding cell.

In the meantime, she occupied herself with elaborate plans of revenge on whoever tipped the police off.  It must have been someone new in town, she figured, someone who didn’t know this was their territory.  Well, she would find the bastard soon enough and show them exactly who ruled the streets around here.  With a little help from her wedding rings, as she liked to call her entirely illegal set of brass knuckles.

Hearing a scuffle nearby, she peered out as far as she could to see one of the officers shoving a protesting man into the cell across from hers.  He was neither cuffed nor raving drunk, so not a danger to society nor himself, though he did sound foreign, sort of vaguely Italian like the greasy-haired goons who reigned supreme in the north end.  Seemingly resigned to his fate, the man immediately slunk to the darkest corner, so she could not get a good look at him.  But she was certain now he must have been the one to notify the cops.  Probably looked suspicious himself, so they nabbed him as well.  They did that with foreigners.

Tucking a stray strand of hair back into place, she called out to the other suspect, maybe see whose teeth she’d be breaking.

“You shoulda told them you were a tourist, they might’ve let you go.”

“Pardon me?”  The man, upon hearing her voice, did step forward out of the shadow, to regard her thoughtfully through the bars.

She immediately regretted such a graceless introduction as soon as she glimpsed those perfect white teeth, that had the nerve to belong on a handsome face with light blue eyes and knife-sharp cheekbones, but had to follow through for her pride.

“I meant, you look like you’re not from around here, so it wasn’t right they took ya in, when they coulda just got a statement,” she explained, while willing the flush in her cheeks to dissipate. 

He gave her a wry, slight smile.  “I am sure this was all a mistake, and I will be released with apologies before too long. But thank you, mademoiselle, for your concern.”

“Ah, can it, mister,” she grumbled, though her stomach fluttered helplessly below her ribcage, from either the allure of his accented voice, or the very real concern that he might soon realize she was the reason he was locked up. Or both. “Nothing to be thanking me for, just common sense.”

“Still, you did not have to say anything, to someone like me,” he murmured agreeably, before procuring a cigarette from a silver case in his jacket and lighting up.  “May I ask, why do the police need to detain you?  If anyone does not belong here, it would be you.”

“I might’ve seen something at a crime scene.  Though they really coulda found me a seat in the lobby instead of locking me up.”  She snorted in disdain.  “It’s like they think I’m the criminal, wouldya believe that!”

“Ridiculous, I agree… but I think you may want to button your coat, regardless,” the man said, indicating her torso with a gloved hand.  “No need to excite these hardworking officers with the contents of your left inside pocket, am I right?”

Cursing under her breath, she clutched at the lapels of her coat, hurriedly buttoning it closed.  How the hell did he know what she used those for?  And why was he even looking there in the first place?

“Nosy, aren’t ya?” she snapped, too alarmed to hold back her irritation.

“What is wrong with my nose?” he asked innocently.

“Putting it where it don’t belong can getcha in trouble.”

“Even if I only wanted to help a beautiful lady out of her own trouble?”

“I mean it, pal.”

“And so do I.”

Whatever he was mulling over, he seemed to have made up his mind at that point, and commenced smoking quietly in his cell, only occasionally glancing her way.

She almost stamped her foot in frustration, but settled for glaring at him.  This fellow was a real piece of work; dumb enough to get caught by the police, but sharp enough to recognize a set of lockpicks tucked into a coat with just one glance.  Someone like that could have only gotten themselves caught if they knew they could get out scot-free.  Someone like that could be a heap of trouble for her and her son, or a blessing in disguise.  Right now he seemed to be doing a bit of both, and she had to find out for sure.

“Then… thanks,” she admitted at last, somewhat ruefully.  “You didn’t have to help me, either.  I guess you caught me off guard.  Sorry.”

Unhelpfully, he remained silent, though his gaze returned to her and stayed, and she smiled back, a bright and foolish hope kindling within her that had lain dormant and neglected all this time. 

But before she could pry out his name or what he was doing in Boston or if he were likely to come around these parts more often, one of the policemen was already strolling over to her cell, to take her to be questioned.  Her scheming had to wait.  And even though she wasn’t at her best today, they eventually dropped the charges of suspicious loitering, and told her to call if she had any information to volunteer regarding the spate of two-man burglaries around the city.

Turning on her heel, she made to tear up the private eye’s business card that was given to her when she got another idea.  She fished out a pen from her purse and jotted down her phone number on the back before she could regret it.  Then she slipped the card through the bars of the stranger’s cell as she walked out to her freedom, and looked back once, to catch his eye and give him a wink.

* * *

 

His answering smile was as devastatingly gorgeous as she would have guessed, and haunted her all through the night as she lay in bed, alone, and feeling that loneliness more than ever.  She tossed and turned, too distracted to sleep or even consider payback, when all she could dream up was that man’s lips on hers.  It was obvious she hadn’t had a man in ages, if a sleazy French-ish criminal she talked to for five minutes could get her this worked up, but she was not about to stint herself either.  She’d get what she was due, sooner or later.

 

* * *

 

“Yeah, someone called, but it wasn’t for you, Ma.”

“Ya sure?”

She hid her disappointment as best as she could, setting the bag of groceries down on the counter.  Glumly, she set a pot of water to boil and then suddenly the phone rang.  Shooting her son a dirty look, she darted to the phone and picked up the handset.

“Hello?  Who is this?”

“Allo?” a familiar accented voice drifted through the line.  “Eh, madamoiselle?”

She huffed through her nose, annoyed, but more than that, relieved.  “I ought to hang up right now, mister, it’s been two days.”

“I am sorry for not calling sooner, it was not my intention to put this off.”

“As long as ya didn’t run away with the detective, I might consider forgiving you.”  That had been a legitimate concern of hers, actually.  “Might,” she emphasized.

“Please, tell me what I must do to regain your favor,” he begged her, in mock distress.

“Well… you could always apologize in person, you know, for keeping a lady waiting.”

“That sounds fair enough.  And to whom should I be apologizing?”

She hesitated, still wary of his intention, as he had not even told her his name.  “Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.  Meet me at the Rosebud Diner at eight tonight, and I don’t know, we’ll see if that changes.”

“I will not keep you waiting this time, I promise.”

“Good.  I’ll see ya later, Frenchie.”  In her giddiness, she blew him a kiss through the mouthpiece.

“ _Au revoir, ma belle_.”

She hung up, unable to keep from grinning like an idiot.  Catching her boy gaping at her, she folded her arms crossly at his dumbstruck expression. 

“What, you think your mother is too old to go out?”

“But Ma, do you have any idea who he is?!”

“I know enough.”

He leapt to his feet, looking distressed.  “I heard him!  He’s the same guy who called earlier!  You don’t wanna mess with him, Ma, he’s a two-faced, back-stabbing creep!”

“Why you---! He called earlier and you didn’t tell me?!”  She refrained from wringing her youngest’s neck for the moment, vowing to save it for later.

“What’s he wanting to do with you, anyway?!”

“That’s none of your business, Scout.”

“You’re seriously not gonna see him, are ya?  He’s bad news, Ma, take it from me.”

“Look, honey, I can take care of myself.  I’ll be back in a couple of hours, perfectly safe, you’ll see, it’ll be okay.”

Her boy still seemed doubtful, so she added, “I can take him.”

He brightened up considerably at that.  “Yeah, you probably could.” 

 

* * *

 

 

There was not much she could do to disguise the faint lines around her eyes, but swiping a bright red rouge across her lips did wonders to play up their color.  She adjusted the pearl necklace across her collarbones, checked her purse for her wedding rings, and then took a deep breath.  Ready or not, she thought, here I go.

Sweeping out the door, she made her way to the local diner, secretly thrilled and more than a little nervous.  To be meeting a mysterious man, handsome and clever and apparently dangerous, someone who looked out for her, and yet did not patronize her like other men would – she found herself drawn by the intrigue, the challenge presented by the stranger in the cell.

He was waiting for her at the counter, looking dashing in a stylish hat pulled down low over his eyes and a burgundy scarf knotted about his throat.

“Apology accepted?” he asked hopefully.

“Of course.”

They claimed a corner booth for a little privacy, but before he could even open the menu, she had waved down the waitress and was ordering for them both.

The lobster roll set in front of him did not impress, which prompted her to move to his side and show him what the deal was.

“Ya gotta try this at least once while you’re in Boston!” she exclaimed.

“I am not terribly fond of seafood.”

“It’s good, take a bite, you’ll love it.”  She demonstrated that for him, savoring the juicy buttery meat with hum of delight.  That seemed to convince him to eat the rest, however reluctantly.

“See, told ya.  Now these, these are the best!”  She picked one of the fried crunchy potato bits off the plate and offered it to him.

“What on earth are those?!” Mystery man was actually leaning away from her now.

“They’re tater tots.”

“I’m full,” he stated hurriedly.

But she hadn’t raised eight boys to adulthood to be thwarted so easily.  “Are you kidding me?  Open up, right now, buddy, don’t make me do it for you!”  She popped one in the stranger’s grudgingly opened mouth and then moved his jaw for him when it looked like he was refusing to chew it himself.  “Now swallow.  There, delicious, right?”

He grimaced and muttered dourly, “I am only eating them because you are.”

Chuckling, she chose to take this admission as a victory.  Snooty French people.  He must really like her then, she thought.

Their conversation wandered from topic to topic, nothing personal, hardly as exhilarating as the first exchange, and yet she hung on to his every word, and in return, he listened to her, enthralled.  Before she knew it, two hours had turned into nearly three, and she had to run back home before her little boy went on a rampage again.

 

* * *

 

He did not reveal his name, and she did not offer her own.  It seemed better that way, and certainly made it easier for her the next day to pluck up the courage to call the hotel number he had scribbled down for her.

“You stole my wedding ring, mister,” she said, once he picked up the phone.

“I will return it when you give me back my watch.”

She had to laugh.  They were made for each other.

Before she could knock, he was opening the door, as she expected.  And even on her tiptoes, she had to pull him down by the collar in order to kiss him.

“I still don’t trust you, you know.”

“You are far wiser than I am, then.”

Despite that admission, they lingered in each other’s embrace, the thief and the murderer, throwing caution aside for the solace of another heartbeat close to their own.   

“Come to bed with me, my little bird,” he entreated her between soft kisses.

“Will I get out of it alive?” she asked, smiling up at him.

“Oh, you think I am that good?  I’m flattered.”

She punched him in the arm playfully, and ended up pushing him into bed.

The watch and rings lay neglected on the nightstand all night, as the two of them found far better things worth exchanging.


	2. An ending, but not the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was on a time crunch to get this done by the deadline, and couldn't craft a perfectly seamless and well-timed transition between scenes, if you couldn't tell, but I really wanted to get my giftee these last bits of writing...

She never had a doubt he would be good to her.  The way he attended to her every desire, with his lips pressed all over her bare skin, at her throat, between her breasts, over her thighs, while his fingers soothingly massaged her tense muscles.  But even in her dreams, she could not have imagined such tenderness and skill, as he placed gentle kisses up between her legs, his clever tongue teasing her into lustful sighs and moans.  How she burned for him, ached for him, and yet he would not give in to his own need, not until she reached her peak, softly crying out her climax.  Shuddering in the wake of that overwhelming satisfaction, she endeavored to draw him close as he entered, as he steadily brought her to pleasure again with each thrust of his hips.

She listened to his drowsy whispered pillow talk as she brushed her fingers over his cheek, his stubbled chin.  Selfish of her, wanting to touch him while she still could, before he would surely disappear from her life and leave her broken-hearted, as the other men in her life had.  There on the nightstand, those gold and diamond rings glinted, heartless reminders of marriages that ended badly or abruptly.  The reasons she carried them as weapons, and not as tokens of love.

She turned on her side, facing away from them, from him.  But he curled up to her anyway, and she sighed into his nuzzling. 

“What is it that you want?” she murmured.

There was a brief pause, and he confessed quietly, “Before, a lot of things.  Power, victory, immortality.  Now, only you, ever you.”  He kissed her shoulder, then asked, “What do you desire?”

“This is… plenty.”

A thought occurred to her, and she craned her neck to look at him.  “I have to call you something, don’t I?  A nickname, anything.  I mean… after what we just did, I think that warrants a name at least.”

He closed his eyes, exhaling gently.  “Call me what you wish, _ma fleur_.”

“What about… Clyde?”

“Hmm… not my first choice,” he murmured, already starting to doze off.

“Maybe not,” she admitted to herself.  She didn’t look much like a Bonnie, anyway. 

 

* * *

 

Her boy grabbed the phone before she could, started yelling death threats and such into the handset before she wrestled it out of his hands.  But the voice on the other line was laughing and snorting from merriment, and that made her laugh as well, until they were both crying, and her son was close to tears himself, though for an entirely different reason.

“I believe you have something of mine, _ma chere_ ,” he told her, after they had calmed down enough to breathe.

“Hey, pal, I didn’t steal nothing this time!” she protested.

“Then who took my heart?” he asked, as serious as she had ever heard him.  “Who stole my restful sleep, who snuck into my every waking thought?  Who left me a ransom of devotion that I must pay?”

“Don’t blame me,” she answered sternly.  “It takes two, you know.”

“How did it get to this?”

She sighed, picking at the phone cord.  “That I can’t tell you.  Maybe it was meant to be.”

“What do we do?”

“Come to the main shipyard at midnight, alone,” she told him, before hanging up abruptly.

“Ma, what happened?” her son asked, at her side in a flash.  “Did he hurt you?”

Pretending to smile at her baby boy did hurt, but she sniffed and only said, “No, no, I just… I was just laughing too hard.”

“Really?  You’re okay?”

“Yeah.”  Life was funny like that.

 

* * *

 

 

There was a red rose at his lapel, a velvet box in his hands.  The way he seemed to light up when she approached him made her heart break.

“I know you already have four, and you do not need another,” he began, his voice as close to trembling as she had ever heard it.  “But I wanted you to accept this, and know that I am forever yours.”

She stared at the diamond ring he held offered to her, then back up at him.

“I love you, my little bird, with all my heart.”

“No, I can’t take this.”  She closed her hands over the box, pushed it away, though it took every ounce of her will to physically refuse such a stunning jewel.  “Don’t get me wrong, I love it, it’s gorgeous.  And I do care for you.  But it’s not for me.  Not for us.”

His crestfallen look almost convinced her to accept the ring, the proposal that went with it, but she remained firm.  To his credit, he did not persist, seeming to understand what was left unspoken.

“I can still keep it?” he asked sadly, closing the lid on the box and tucking it into his jacket.

“Well… yeah…  I guess?”

“I suppose I do not know you as well as I thought I did.  But if you will let me, I can stay with you, and try.  And maybe someday, you would accept this.”

She shook her head at his lovestruck expression, smiling wistfully.   She did not say she never would, though.

But she could not help adding, “You know, you coulda stolen me a bigger diamond, I’m just saying.  I mean, it wouldn’t have changed my mind… but you could have, couldn’t you?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then heaved a huge sigh.  “For you, I would kill and wreck such destruction as to bring down entire governments… so yes, I could.  I would.”

“I thought so.”  To his surprise, she leaned in to kiss him.  “To seal the deal,” she told him with a wink, and he laughed and kissed her back.


End file.
